


Come Away to the Water

by CaptainAmelia22



Category: Captain America, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shop, F/M, Gen, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-25
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2017-11-15 00:29:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/521128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainAmelia22/pseuds/CaptainAmelia22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Have you ever wondered how the battle for Midtown would have spun out if Loki hadn't dropped his scepter?  Would the Avengers still have won the day?  Or would chaos reign?  This is an Avengers/Coffee House AU that takes a look at what Loki's reign would be like if he hadn't lost to his golden brother and his pathetic mortal friends.  Rated M for later chapters of violence and some sexual conduct.  </p><p>(Inspiration for work title comes from the Maroon 5 song "Come Away to the Water" which is featured on the Hunger Games soundtrack.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Before the End

**Author's Note:**

> This was just an idea I came up with literally while steaming milk for customers at the cafe I work at. I've never written an AU before so this will be an experiment.

The day the world ended started out as any normal day for Regan Carlson. She was late, as usual, getting into work at the Starbucks on 54th Street. It was funny, how at the time this seemed like the worst thing to ever happen to Regan. She’d been told by her manager that she had one more chance, one more chance to get her butt behind the counter promptly at ten in the morning. 

It really wasn’t her fault that her boyfriend Mitchell had been in town that week and he’d decided to wake her up in a…well, in the best way possible, was it? 

Seriously, she hadn’t seen him for weeks. Being late was worth the good-morning sex. 

Her lips tilted in a smirk as she breezed into the Starbucks at promptly eleven a.m. They were swamped, as per usual, and her manager Peter was beside himself in panic. 

“Where have you been Reggie?!” he shrieked as she pulled her curly black hair up into a messy bun. 

She shrugged one slender shoulder, bumped her friend Beth’s hip as she headed for her station and patted Pete’s sweaty cheek. “Don’t worry, babe,” she said cockily. “I’m here now and everything is going to be cool. CAN I TAKE SOMEBODY'S ORDER?!” she bellowed, ignoring his stink eye and dangerous murmurings of firing his most troublesome barista.

He wouldn’t fire her, last chance be damned. She was his most important worker. 

Her smirk stayed in place for most of the morning and finally, when some of their lunch rush had died down, she turned to face her best friend Beth and said, “So what’s happened baby-cakes? Plain Black Coffee Guy show up yet?” Her icy blue eyes twinkled cheekily as her friend flushed and shook her blonde head.

“No he wasn’t here this morning,” Beth murmured. She tried to not show her disappointment; Reggie would lock onto her emotions and Beth would never hear the end of the dangers of falling in love with snotty people who had to have their coffee at precisely 140 degrees. The blonde man with the sad eyes was nothing like that. He liked his coffee black, nothing fancy. He was the perfect customer, really. He just sat at his customary table, sketched the buildings around him and occasionally chatted with the old guys sitting near him. 

Reggie’s eyes narrowed and she raised an imperious finger to the pushy customer directly behind her, “Did you say something to him yesterday Beth?” she asked, folding her arms as Beth steamed some 100% vanilla soy milk to precisely 140 degrees for the lady in the grey pant suit and the sour look on her face. 

Beth handed the lady her Venti cup with a smile and a quiet “Have a nice day,” before turning to Reggie and sighing. “Yeah, I did. I don’t think it would be enough to scare him away; I just mentioned Tony Stark and asked if he was hoping to catch a glimpse of him flying overhead. Nothing too pushy,” she murmured as she started on her next order 

Reggie snorted and inspected her painted nails, “Yeah, well, sometimes that’s enough to scare guys away. He didn’t seem to notice us girls that much. Maybe he’s gay!” Her eyes twinkled happily at the thought as she turned to her impatient customers. “Yeah, yeah,” she snapped to the scowling businessman tapping his fingers impatiently on the counter. “Grande soy sugar free vanilla latte with the nutmeg and cinnamon on top no foam. Do you ever want to try something new? You know, shake it up with a frap or maybe a chai?” He opened his mouth and she sighed. “Whatever, it’ll be done in a few moments. NEXT!” 

Beth smiled as Reggie continued taking orders in her usual prickly manner and tried to not keep her eyes open for Plain Black Coffee Guy; Reggie may be a passive aggressive elitist when it came to the Starbucks patrons, but she was right about one thing. Falling in love with a guy at a coffee shop was not the way Beth wanted to meet her soul mate.

Which really was too bad, because Plain Black Coffee Guy would be the perfect knight in shining armor; he was polite, gentle, quiet, wounded…

Reggie watched Beth out of the corner of her eye and her scowl deepened; the blonde had a glazed look and she was definitely not paying attention to the espresso she was pulling. It was black, not the caramelly brown Starbucks claimed was the right color.

“Hey, baby cakes,” she snapped, tapping the younger girl’s visor brim. “Step out of that sex dream and adjust the aeration nozzle before you poison us all with that tar you’re pulling.” 

Beth jumped, blushed and started apologizing for her mistake. Reggie rolled her eyes as the woman her friend had been serving immediately started complaining and demanding the drink was made right.

“Look, Hilary,” Reggie snarled at the woman in the hideous navy blue suit and badly died red hair. “She’s fixing it; your soy, very dry, cappuccino will be fixed. So back off and tip this girl right or I’ll send for the manager.” Her ice-blue eyes blazed at the snooty customer and Beth blushed even more.

“It’s okay, Reg,” she murmured as she handed the woman her repaired drink. “Don’t make a big deal out of nothing.” She smiled sheepishly at the woman, who simply sniffed and left the store without tipping.

Reggie watched her go and snorted, “I hate these New York bitches, Beth,” she grumbled as she started wiping down the counters around them. “You need to have more of a backbone-they just walk all over you! Don’t be afraid to show a little temper; these are New Yorkers, not rednecks from Indiana, no offense.”

Beth smiled and murmured, “No offense.” Her brown eyes twinkled as she leaned on the counter beside her friend and she said, “I just can’t be as headstrong as you, Reg! It’s not how I was raised.” 

Reggie rolled her eyes and grumbled, “Sometimes I think a good sized meteor should strike this city off the map, clean up some of these nimrods, let nature get back in balance. You know?” At Beth’s horrified face she laughed and nudged the blonde with her hip, “So, Mitchell is in town this weekend. Want to go out with us tonight? We’re thinking about going to a movie and then the bar afterwards! It’ll be a lot of fun and since Plain Black Coffee Guy hasn’t showed…” she laughed as Beth smacked her with one of their towels and she raised her hands “Okay,” she said cheekily, “I kid! But seriously, Bethie, it’ll be a lot of fun and you should get out a bit and see the City! We may run into Tony Stark if we’re lucky!” Her eyes sparkled at the thought and Beth chuckled.

“And you give me a bad time about Plain Black Coffee Guy? You spend every morning hoping to see the Iron Man fly overhead! You’re like a lovesick groupie!” Reggie snorted and smacked the girl with her own towel and shouted an indignant “Am not!” Beth just laughed and said, “What does Mitchell have to say about your Tony Stark shrine?”

Reggie flushed and pointed a finger at her friend, “You swore you wouldn’t say anything about that Beth! And it’s not a shrine! I just have a few pictures of him around the loft.” She folded her arms and scowled as Beth laughed and scrubbed down the wand on the espresso machine.

“A few, Regan Carlson?! You have an entire wall of magazine articles, posters and masks squirreled away in that apartment! It’s like being in a Catholic church where Tony Stark is the patron saint!” Beth chuckled as Reggie sighed and made a swooning gesture.

“Now that,” she said cheekily, “Is a church I could get behind.” 

The girls laughed companionably and the day continued. 

It was so perfectly normal, so perfectly mundane, that none of them expected anything to ever change, but in the coming months, for Regan Carlson, that day was almost like heaven. On nights when she finally got a chance to rest, she would sit propped against the wall of Grace’s steeple and she would remember joking with her best friend Beth about Tony Stark and Plain Black Coffee Guy. 

She missed that day, with her whole being…


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Some violence will be committed against fictional characters in this chapter

6 Months Later  
Midnight

Clint Barton, former agent of SHIELD, dropped through the broken skylight of the old gym they’d commandeered. He landed silently upon the cement and looked around for his companions; the heavy thud-thud of fists connecting with sand filled punching bags directed him to the old ring and he smiled bitterly.

When they weren’t running counter-attacks against Loki and his enforcers, Steve could usually be found in the gym pummeling some sorry punching bags. The man rarely slept and when he did, his dreams were nightmare ridden which made him even crabbier upon waking. Thor and Clint had given up on suggesting the super soldier sleep so now Steve never did. 

Sliding through the broken door into the dank ring, he saw his friend in the back corner working a bag; the heavy thuds of his fists made Clint flinch and he glanced over his shoulder towards the dark office. Thor would be in there, finally getting some rest, and he longed to be sleeping as well. 

They hadn’t had a chance to relax in days and the lack of sleep and lack of food was making him just as crabby and temperamental as the good Captain. 

Before he could turn coward and run away from his friend, Steve spoke. “What did you see, Clint?” The archer flinched at the emotionless tone of his voice and he could imagine the man’s vacant expression. 

It was insane, but Steve Rogers blamed himself for Loki’s winning. He blamed himself for every death that had occurred and this had turned him into the bitter man slamming his fists into canvas before Clint. 

“I saw a lot, Cap,” he murmured, his voice as mild as it had been six months ago. “The streets are still overrun with Chitauri, Stark’s Tower is still an egotistical palace and I,” here he hesitated, his voice dying with his memories.

Steve glanced at him and scowled, “What, Clint? What happened?” 

The archer raised pained blue eyes to Steve’s and he sighed. “I saw Natasha, Steve.” 

The only sound in the gym was the squeaky creaking of the bag on its rusted chain; Clint’s skin crawled and he almost turned-tail and ran from the gym, but before he could Steve walked over to him and placed his hand gently on his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, Clint,” Steve murmured, his eyes agonized. “I know that was hard for you.” He sighed and began to unwrap the tape on his knuckles. “Was she with Loki?”

Clint sighed and rubbed his face roughly. “Of course she was,” he muttered. “She’s his pet, his prize possession. He’ll never let her leave his side now.” He wouldn’t tell Steve about how close he’d come to using his bow on her. But that would have given his position away and the last thing Steve needed was losing yet another friend to Loki’s machinations. 

“Did you find the arc?” Steve asked hoping tactical questions would distract Clint from seeing his best friend in the grips of their enemy. 

Clint’s feral grin flashed in the faint light of the gym and he tossed a battered digital camera onto the bench behind them. “Hell yeah I did,” he said with a laugh. “And it’s a beaut, Cap. Stark knew what he was doing and it’ll be a bitch to get to since it’s in the Hudson but we take it out, we cut half the Tower’s power in one go.” 

Steve nodded absently and picked the camera up between thumb and forefinger. It had been nearly a year since he’d been pulled out of the ice and he still didn’t quite understand modern technology. 

Clint eyed him and then laughed, “Jesus, Cap! After all we’ve been through you would think a little camera would be the least of your problems!” Taking pity on the fumbling Captain he took the camera between his fingers and pulled up the pictures he had taken on his recon. 

Steve was quiet as his companion scrolled through the pictures and then he muttered, “Don’t think badly of me when I say this Clint, but there’s a part of me that’s glad things fell out the way they did. It’s much…easier…this way. More understandable for me.” A faint blush crawled up his neck as Clint stared at him in surprise and he wandered to the mildew boxing ring where he draped his arms over the bottom rope. 

The archer was silent for a few moments trying to come up with an appropriate response and coming up with none, shrugged and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “I can understand that, Cap. There was always something easy about the battles Nat and I fought, when we knew who the bad guys were and that all we had to do was shoot them and make our report. This is kind of like that-we’re battling an all-powerful super villain and his army of scaly aliens; all we have to do is win the day and we’ll all live happily ever after.” 

Steve snorted and muttered, “That’s all? Don’t make it too difficult for me Clint.” 

“Wouldn’t think of it,” the archer said with a laugh. Then with a sigh he gathered up his equipment. “Okay, Steve. I have to get some shut eye; I’m dead on my feet. You…You should get some rest too,” he said quietly. 

Steve shook his head and said, “I’ve slept enough to last me a lifetime, Clint. You should though; wake Thor up and set him on watch. I’m going to go scout around a bit.” 

Clint started to dissuade his friend but seeing the steely look in Steve’s eye and the clenched muscles in his jaw, he thought better of it. He didn’t fancy getting some of the treatment those punching bags had had recently. “Okay Cap,” he said quietly. “Take a radio though, just in case. And don’t go too far, the Chitauri may not be in Brooklyn right now but that doesn’t mean they won’t be later tonight.” 

Steve nodded and grabbed his shield and coat from where they sat near the door. “I’ll be back later. Get some rest.” 

Clint watched him vault over the half collapsed wall on the opposite side of the gym and sighed. What was he going to do with the Captain? He didn’t know how to deal with this cold, broken man. Not for the first time and definitely not for the last, he found himself wishing Director Fury was still alive. If anyone would know how to fix this entire situation, it would have been the domineering Colonel. 

Heaving an almighty sigh, he pushed his dark thoughts away and turned to the bench with the forgotten camera and his weapons. Scooping all of these up he walked slowly towards the office where their Asgardian god currently slept. He’d kick the blonde giant out and then spend some time studying those pictures he’d taken during his recon of what had once been Stark Tower. 

No one needed to know that five of those pictures he’d taken were pictures of his best friend. 

**

He was being followed; this didn’t necessarily worry Steve as he prowled through the darkened alleys of what had once been Brooklyn. He was, after all, still a super soldier. He may be a darker, colder version of himself from six months ago but thanks to Erskine there wasn’t much wandering through this city that could damage him. 

His lips lifted in a fierce grin as his tail tread quietly after him on the broken brick pavement of this alley near what had once been a bustling bakery. Whoever (whatever) this was, they were much quieter than one of Loki’s Chitauri. It could be one of his blue eyed drones though, which made Steve uneasy. In the past few months the once-humans had gotten stronger and harder to “recalibrate” as Clint called it. Once upon a time, in the early days of Loki’s rule, a sharp blow to the head had been enough to free the drones of Loki’s scepter’s control but now things had begun to change. 

Thor had a theory or two about that and none of them were good. 

Steve’s hypersensitive ears pricked when he heard the tail’s foot connect with a chunk of brick. They swore as the rubble clattered a few feet across the pavement and he tensed, his eyes narrowing as he continued his nightly stroll. 

The drones never spoke. Who was behind him?

Hoping to catch his assailant by surprise he ducked quickly around the corner of a burnt shell of an apartment building and hefted his shield; adrenaline rushed through his veins at the thought of smashing its black surface into a faceless enemy’s body and his teeth flashed whitely in a silent snarl. 

He was so focused on whoever was following him he at first didn’t notice the unmistakable pressure of a pistol muzzle being pressed against the back of his head. He did notice the red laser dot crawling up his nose though. His muscles tensed and he was on the verge of attacking the person behind him when his follower turned the corner leisurely and said in a woman’s husky voice, “Wouldn’t think about it, blue-eyes. One wrong move and my sniper will pull his trigger and your brains’ll be splattered all over Hewie’s coat behind you. Got it?” 

He tensed as more shadowy figures peeled out of the buildings and alleys around them. Someone came up to him and he jumped as a petite woman relieved him of his shield and handgun. 

“Who are you?” he ground out, his body trembling with adrenaline. 

“Don’t worry about it zombie,” snarled the man holding the gun to his head. “In a few moments you won’t remember anyway and the only thing you’ll notice is the honking bruise on your temple.” 

Steve frowned; did drones know about the recalibration? And if so, why were these people talking about hitting him over the head? 

He opened his mouth to ask something but before he could, the tiny woman said quietly, “He’s got a shield Reg. Do you think he’s…”

The first woman shook her head furiously and snapped, “No, he’s not. They all died that day.” Then turning to the man holding Steve she said, “Finish it Hewie. We need to get back to base.” 

Steve’s muscles surged as he prepared to battle his way out of this small circle of people but before he could do anything the man, Hewie, pistol whipped him across the back of his skull. Steve crashed to his knees as his head exploded with pain; he groaned and sagged to the broken pavement. He didn’t pass out right away; instead he twisted and struck one of the men standing closest to him. His fist slammed into the man’s stomach and Steve was vaguely aware of his body flying several feet through the air to smack limply against the wall of the burnt apartment building.

He didn’t get another chance to attack his assailants after his first assault, because at that moment the woman who had followed him, the apparent leader of this tiny group, smashed her foot into his face, breaking his nose. 

“Bad plan, buddy,” she snarled as he crumpled. She leaned over him as his vision went black and he heard her say from a great distance, “I hope you’re better behaved when you become human again.”

A small part of him wanted to laugh and snarl, “I haven’t been human for over seventy years, lady!” but his tongue didn’t seem to work anymore and his head hurt too much to hold up anymore…

**

“We should take his mask off Reg, we need to see who this is before he wakes up.”

“No.”

“But Reg! I want to know who we have chained to a chair in our secret headquarters.” 

“It doesn’t matter who we have chained up. Shut up.”

“Better yet, why does he have a shield? Who uses shields anymore?”

“I don’t know Hewie. Maybe he thought he could go sledding.”

“Reg what are we going to do with him?! We can’t trust him-remember what happened with the last blue eyes we brought to base? What if that happens again?”

“It won’t.”

Steve stirred as harsh human voices bombarded his ears; they sounded like angry bees buzzing around a broken hive and they were making his headache worse. He listened to the furious buzzing and as they finally became six individual voices, he focused on the leader’s husky voice. She spoke mildly, but he could hear the unmistakable tone of leadership under her words. This was a woman used to being followed.

His neck tensed as he heard her approach him; he recognized the sound of her leisurely stroll from the alley and he knew in his bones that this was not a woman he would want to fight hand-to-hand. Before he could react, her hand grabbed his chin and pulled it violently up.

His eyes flashed open and he bared his teeth; she laughed and shook his head gently, “Good morning, zombie,” she purred. The fine hair on Steve’s arms stood upright at the sound of her voice and he felt himself go cold at the emptiness in her shadowed eyes.

This woman was just as hopeless as him, just as broken and like him she was undoubtedly in control of all of her faculties. 

“You’re not a drone!” he exclaimed in surprise and her fingers tightened on his jaw.

She frowned, saying, “Drone? What are you talking about?” 

He froze and shook his head, clamping his lips closed. She narrowed her eyes and considered him for a moment. Not for the first time during the night, she wondered who was really under that mask. She refused to let herself hope, but seeing his shield and the half mask had made her wonder. 

Her icey eyes danced over the black mask covering his face, lingered for a moment on the blood congealing in his beard and then settled on his clear blue eyes.

“He’s not a blue-eyes, people,” she said before releasing him with one final shake. “Everyone can relax.” She turned her back to him, placing herself between him and her companions.

This of course instigated another minor uproar and Steve flinched again as the pounding in his head intensified. She glanced at him over her shoulder and took up what Steve had always thought of as a “commander’s stance;” she folded her arms, spread her legs slightly and raised her chin. Even from behind she looked domineering, he could only imagine how terrifying she looked from the front. 

“Everybody shut up!” she snarled, her voice whipping through the five people clustered in front of them. “I don’t want to hear your voices anymore so get the fuck out of my sight. I want to be alone with this guy for a while.” Her straight spine and no-nonsense tone made it clear that she was not going to entertain any protests. 

One of the men, an older fellow with graying fly-away hair and broken glasses frowned and said, “Why do you want to be alone with him?”

She snorted and said in a disdainful voice, “Ever see a James Bond or Mission Impossible film Hewie?” He nodded and she shrugged one shoulder. “Then you know why I want to be alone with him.” 

The five people relaxed and even a few of them grinned and Steve went cold at the brutality in their eyes. What had she meant? What references had he missed but her cronies had understood? Was she going to torture him? Kill him?

For the first time in a long time, Steve began to feel fear. He strained his shoulders subtly as the people filed one-by-one out of the tiny room he was being held in and he groaned internally as he realized he’d been bound with chains. 

Chains! Not rope, not even handcuffs. His eyes narrowed at his captor’s back and he wondered who these people were; they obviously knew something if they’d put him in something stronger than rope.

“Who are you?” he ground out to the black clothed woman. 

She didn’t answer, simply moved to an overturned chair. He watched silently as she picked it up and carried it over to him. His skin crawled in the silence and he focused on studying her. He couldn’t see much of her, she wore a deeply hooded black coat and her face was shadowed but he could tell that she was tall. If he could stand, she’d be similar in height to him, maybe a couple inches shorter; she was slender, but he could tell by the way she walked that she was a long-time athlete, probably a runner or swimmer. 

He jumped when she started to laugh; she was leaning on the back of the chair and her icey blue eyes actually lit up in her mirth. “Stop studying me, buddy,” she said mildly. “It’s creepy.” 

Steve was silent, his mind spinning as he tried to understand this woman; one moment she seemed as hopeless and broken as he felt, the next she was laughing and calling him out. Who is she? he kept asking himself.

She plopped in the chair and folded her long legs. She leaned her head back with a heavy sigh and the hood fell to her shoulders; wild black hair exploded from its depths and Steve’s eyes narrowed at the sight of so much hair and her sharp features.

There was something familiar about her…

It was quiet for a few minutes and Steve shifted uncomfortably, trying to ease the tension of his joints. He wondered briefly what Clint and Thor were doing and whether they had gone searching for him. He hoped they hadn’t. 

He was about to ask what time it was and then she spoke. “Fucking New Yorkers. If I’d known I’d be stuck forever in this damn City commanding a ragtag collection of brokers and magazine editors I’d have dropped my scholarship at NYU and moved to Boston with Mitchell,” she groaned as she rubbed her temples gently. 

Steve’s mouth had dropped open during this tirade and his eyes were wild as he gasped, “You! You’re the coffeehouse cashier who always took my orders!”

She stood hurriedly and her chair flew back several feet as she prowled towards where he sat bound. “Who are you?” she snarled, gripping his chin once more in a vice-like grip.

He shook his head, his eyes still wild and she paled. “It’s you, isn’t it?” she whispered, her blue eyes cold. Before he could respond she ripped his mask from his face. Steve winced as the fabric brushed against his healing nose and he gazed at her hopelessly through the hair that now tumbled over his brow.

“Plain Black Coffee Guy,” she whispered in shock; her fingers twisted in his hair and he winced at the pain and hatred in her eyes. “I always thought there was something odd about you. Captain America,” her voice twisted around his name, making it sound like a particularly nasty swear word; her eyes hardened and a muscle in her jaw twitched furiously.

Steve just stared at her, absolutely stunned.

The last time he’d seen her, he was pulling her and the blonde waitress’s broken bodies out of the rubble of the bombed bank on 51st Street. He had thought they were dead and he had added the guilt of their deaths to his growing list. 

“What happened to the blonde?” he whispered in the heavy silence; if the feisty waitress was still alive, maybe the sweet-faced blonde had survived as well.

She shuddered and released his hair, making his head rap sharply against the cement wall at his back. “She’s dead,” she snarled. “No fucking thanks to you.” 

He should have expected it, but it still came as a surprise when her fist landed on his jaw and the back of Steve’s skull connected with the wall behind him with a bone jarring crack.

As his vision went grey he saw her throw his mask at his feet.

He sighed and let himself fall back into unconsciousness. 

Just more guilt…


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry guys! Some of my chapters got posted out of order! So this one is the REAL third chapter. God, I am so sorry for the confusion!

Thor nudged Clint awake in the wee hours of the morning and jumped aside as the former agent jerked upright swinging a knife.

“Easy, my brother,” the Norse god said with a soft chuckle. “There are no enemies afoot.” 

Clint groaned and fell back onto the makeshift bed they’d made out of stacked mats. “What time is it?” he grumbled. He felt like he’d barely slept and every bone in his body ached with that knowledge.

Thor leaned against the door frame saying, “Dawn lightens the horizon, archer. Once our brother Steve returns we must strike out on our quest.” 

Clint’s eyes snapped open at that and he sat back up. “Steve’s not back?” he asked in surprise.

The blonde god frowned and shook his head, “I know not where he went; his communications device is abandoned thus I have not been able to recall him.” 

Clint stood at this and gathered his weapons. “That isn’t good,” he muttered as he dressed. Thor watched him tensely, his fingers tightening around the worn leather of his hammer’s staff. 

“Is our brother in trouble, archer?” he asked, his voice rumbling in the still air of the office. 

Clint glanced at him as he tightened the strap on his quiver. “I’m not sure, but he’s never stayed out this long in the past; it won’t hurt to scout around and see if he may have gotten into some sort of trouble.” 

They left the office and Thor asked the one question Clint had hoped wouldn’t be voiced. 

“If he has?”

Clint’s gray eyes darkened and he fingered his bow thoughtfully. “Well,” he said slowly. “If he has, then Cap would want us to finish what we started.” He turned to the blonde god at his shoulder and smiled coldly. “The show must go on, after all.” 

Thor nodded solemnly and together they left the gym to see if they could find any sign of their errant Captain. 

**

Steve came to slowly; his head was foggy and he could tell his nose had definitely healed wrong while he was unconscious, it was difficult to breathe.

Groaning he rolled his head back so he could rest it on the wall. He struggled to focus in the dim light cast by the lantern sitting in the middle of the floor and froze when he realized someone else was in the room with him. 

His muscles tensed and strained against the chains binding him and he ground out in a gravelly voice, “Who’s there?”

Her familiar pace did not relieve him; instead his body went cold with terror as she closed on him. “Just your worst nightmare,” she said, her husky voice grating over him.

He pulled away from her as she stopped in front of him. She was still in her black clothes but her hood was down and her hair was contained in a braid down her back. Her icy eyes gazed at him and Steve could only begin to guess at the dark emotion swirling in their depths.

“I’m sorry…” he choked out, knowing that his words would do very little to heal her pain. 

She only shook her head and raised her hand to his face; he flinched as her slender fingers brushed against his bruised cheeks and the corner of her lips twitched in a sideways grin. “You don’t need to apologize, Captain,” she murmured. “I should be the one apologizing.” She dropped her hand and cocked her head, “You’re not as pretty now with your nose all crooked. I shouldn’t have kicked you so hard.”

He shrugged as best he could in the chains and muttered, “If you’d pulled that blow I wouldn’t have gone down, so it’s good for you and your team that you kicked me as hard as you did.”

She laughed harshly and he smiled. “If you could do me a favor,” he said with a slight wince. She raised her eyebrows and he sighed before continuing, “Could you pop my nose back into place? It didn’t heal right and I can’t breathe.”

Her eyes widened and she took a step back from him, “You want me to rebreak your nose?” she gasped, for once revealing how young she truly was.

He smiled and shrugged, “It’ll heal in a few hours’ time. I just need it back to relatively normal or I’m always going to be whistling when I breathe.” 

She stared at him, her mind reeling at his words and then finally she shrugged and muttered, “Whatever you say buddy. Hold onto your shorts.” Her fingers pinched the bridge of his nose tightly and he closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath, she wrenched the damaged cartilage straight and almost gagged at the subsequent crunching it made. 

He hissed as blood began to trickle slowly once more from his nose into his beard and he whispered brokenly, “Thank you.” 

She nodded and rummaged in her pocket; pulling out a handkerchief she tore it into a couple of strips and wadded each strip into a little ball. Not pausing to apologize, she shoved each piece of cotton up his nose and he swore softly at the roughness of her fingers.

She apologized then and he only shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. The pain will cease in an hour or so and the break will have healed for good by the end of the day.” 

She frowned at this and said, “You’re just like him aren’t you?” Her hand, only slightly bloodied from resetting his nose, rose to rest on the gun holstered at her hip and Steve tensed. 

“Like who?” he murmured, his eyes locked on her gun.

She shifted and said with pure loathing in her voice, “Like Loki the Pompous Ass of the Ivory Throne or whatever he calls himself now.” Her eyes blazed in the dim light and Steve shivered at the hate rolling off of her.

He shook his head and tried to ease some of her fears, “No,” he murmured. “I’m not like Loki. I’m just a little stronger than most men.” He raised his eyes to hers and saw the distrust in them. “How do you know what he’s like?”

Her knuckles were white as she laughed bitterly, “I think we all know what he’s like; he paraded through the City after he won and it was the most disgusting thing I’d ever seen. When we rose up against him the first time, he crushed our assassins like they were nothing but rotten fruit. He’s not human, that’s for sure.” She sighed and once more dragged the chair across the room so that she could sit near him. She crossed her legs in front of her, resting her boots upon each other and Steve was reminded of his long-ago best friend Bucky. 

This woman was just like him, all dark intensity and restless energy. “I was there, when he paraded down Broadway; we were hoping we’d be able to take him out in one shot but we failed,” his voice was just as bitter as hers and his shoulders hunched as he remembered Bruce’s furious roars as Loki’s soldiers netted and chained him. 

Banner had been the third of their team to be lost. 

The woman watched him carefully and her voice was quiet when she asked, “Who’s ‘we’?”

Steve thought about keeping silent, the long engrained soldier’s duty battling with the desire to confide in someone who had lost just as much as he. Finally he sighed and raised his eyes to hers. “We were a team of super soldiers put together by a secret branch of the American government; we were hoping to defeat Loki and we almost did but…” he trailed off as memories of that horrific day threatened to overwhelm him. 

“But you were overwhelmed,” she supplied. He nodded and she laughed bitterly, “I was there Captain, I was in the heat of it, and no one could have won the day against those odds.” 

He shook his head and whispered, “We could have, but we fell one-by-one and when Tony died…” his voice cracked as he remembered the sound of stuttering boosters and screeching metal. He swallowed and forced himself to continue, “When Stark was taken by Loki that’s when we knew it was all over.”

He sensed her sudden interest and he glanced up at her as she said in surprise, “You knew Tony Stark?”

He nodded, a small smile touching his lips; even dead, Stark still managed to intrigue the ladies. “Yeah,” he said, “Yeah I knew him. He was a good man.” 

She fiddled with her coat and finally plucked up the courage to ask, “How did he die?”

Steve sighed and rolled his shoulders, “Another of our friend’s was trying to shut the portal when Loki landed behind her and took her over with his scepter; Stark went to help but Loki smashed the mechanism keeping Tony alive. He didn’t make it off the roof.” 

She was silent when he finished and Steve was slightly amazed at the sight of a tear splashing on the black leather of her coat. He averted his eyes; he felt like he was intruding on someone’s private grief and he didn’t think this woman would appreciate the idea of someone witnessing her mourning.

Finally she straightened and tossed her head fiercely, “Well,” she said, her usual brusque tone only slightly less no-nonsense than before. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” She stood and pulled a ring of keys out of her coat pocket. 

Steve just stared at her, thoroughly surprised. “What? You’re letting me go?” he gasped as she knelt beside him and began unlocking the padlocks at his wrists and ankles. 

She smirked as she glanced up at him and shook her head, “Not letting you go per se. Just letting you stretch those lovely legs of yours. I always hate the thought of keeping people chained up; Hewie says it’s my one flaw as a leader.” 

He frowned as his arms were released and he murmured, “Pity is not a flaw in a leader. Sometimes it’s what makes someone great.” 

She stood and dusted her gloved hands off thoughtfully, “Yeah, well, in this day and age pity will more likely get you killed than anything,” she murmured. Her eyes twinkled at him for a second as he stood carefully. 

He swayed as feeling rushed back into his limbs and he bit back a groan at the pins and needles stabbing his arms and legs. She waited patiently for him to get his body in working order, a small smirk on her lips as he wandered around stomping his feet and shaking his hands. 

“Sorry,” she muttered as he did a couple squats. 

He glanced at her and rolled his shoulders, “What are you apologizing for?”

She shrugged, her eyes troubled, and she said, “I never thought I’d punch Captain America in the face and then have him chained in my cellar. I think my grandma would have died of shame at the thought.” 

He let out a sharp bark of laughter and shook his head, “You did what you had to do. I would have done the same.” He paused and glanced at her, his eyes suddenly cold and calculating and he murmured, almost to himself, “Actually I’d probably just kill you and then move on to the next mission.” 

She gazed at him in amazement for a moment and then laughed as well. “Huh, well, I guess we’re not all that different, then, in the end.” 

He shrugged and she smirked. Heading towards the door, she glanced at him over her shoulder and said, “Let’s go then; it’s light out so we can’t do much anyway, so might as well give you a tour and get your life story. Bring that lantern will you? We’ve boarded up the windows so not a lot of light gets in.” 

Steve hesitated for a moment, wondering if he’d be able to make a run for it while she ran her “tour”; the woman’s eyes narrowed and she chuckled coldly, “Don’t think about running, either,” she said. “We outnumber you six to one and while you may be a ‘superhero’ your odds aren’t great of surviving out on the streets in broad daylight. Even you aren’t that dumb.” 

They gazed at each other tensely for a moment, testing the other’s convictions and then Steve nodded. “Okay, I’ll behave,” he murmured. 

Honestly, he was curious to see how so many normal humans had survived for so long in the City; it was unheard of, most would have died in the take-over or been turned into drones. What made this woman and her “team” so special? 

She gazed at him thoughtfully for another moment and then unlocked the door; Steve picked up the lantern and followed her out of the tiny room. 

Shadows swirled sickeningly around them as the lantern swung in his hands and Steve wondered where they were. Wherever it was, it was old. They were walking down a subterranean hallway made of ancient limestone and the dank smell of the mildewing rock made him sneeze; his escort laughed softly and murmured, “We’ll be out of the basement soon, Captain.”

“Where are we?” he asked, his voice echoing ominously through the halls. 

She shook her head and said, “It’s better to let you see for yourself, you won’t believe me if I tell you right-off.” 

They had arrived at some stairs now and Steve raised his eyebrows at the plush red velvet carpeting covering the stone. Where were they that used red velvet?

His jaw dropped when they stepped onto the landing and she pushed her way through a set of heavy wooden double doors. His eyes were wide as he took in the soaring arches and towering pillars disappearing into shadow above and around him.

“We’re in Grace Church?!” he asked in utter disbelief. “Your base of operations is in a church in the heart of Midtown?”

She leaned against a broken pew and shrugged, “When Loki took over, the nuns and priests opened the church as a shelter and people congregated here. We still have a few of the clergy in attendance and most of the people squirreled away here are former parishioners or say they are.” Her voice was quiet but it echoed around them and he shivered. 

“But Loki destroyed all of the churches; it was his first ‘good deed,’ to remove false idols from the city.” His eyes narrowed as he gazed at the relatively intact cathedral. There were obvious signs of damage; broken stained glass windows, now boarded up from the inside, broken pews, toppled statues. The altar was denuded and the candles were not in evidence but other than that the church undoubtedly still stood. 

His escort chuckled and beckoned him forwards, “Oh his soldiers came here all right; that’s how the church lost most of its flock actually. What you haven’t realized, Captain, is that this church may be in the heart of Midtown but Loki considers Midtown conquered. He’s been concentrating on the other burrows, on spreading his influence. He doesn’t care about a few rag-tag humans still scrounging for survival at the base of his throne. He considers us inevitable fodder for his lizards and blue-eyed slaves. We’re his toys and for as long as we amuse him, he’ll let us live.” 

Her voice was bitter as she led him around the altar and into the rear of the church. Steve frowned and murmured, “They don’t want to leave do they? The priests and nuns?”

She sighed, her hand resting on another door and she shook her head, “I’ve told them over and over that it’s only a matter of time till Loki gets bored and sends his troops marching through our doors. I can’t protect them anymore, I’ve lost more men than I’ve gained and most of the people in this church are the weak; the elderly, the very young and the cowards,” she laughed bitterly and glanced at him over her shoulder. He shivered at the hopelessness in her eyes as she continued in a hushed voice, “It’s every soldier’s nightmare, being stuck in an indefensible position with a hundred villagers dependent upon your protection.” 

Before Steve could say anything, she opened the door and disappeared down yet another set of stairs. He hesitated at the encroaching darkness and then followed her into one of the most amazing sights he had ever seen.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally posted this chapter BEFORE the third chapter (Poor organization, SO sorry) so make sure you go back to chapter three! Everything will make sense after this.

“There’s no sign of him. Dammit. It’s like he fell off the face of the goddamned planet! Dammit.” 

Clint’s voice, no longer mild and controlled, rang through the empty alley and Thor flinched.

“Quiet my brother or the scavengers may set upon us,” he murmured, his low voice calm. 

Clint shook his head and continued studying the dirty brick pavement they stood on. “He was here dammit! I followed his boot prints all this way and now there’s nothing! Just a bunch of confusing tracks and scuffed sign,” he grumbled before straightening. 

Thor frowned and bent to inspect the one clear print of Steve’s boot they had found. His fingers stretched out to touch a dusty blood stain and he glanced at his companion. “Was he captured by Loki’s forces?” he asked, his eyes darkening at the thought.

Clint laughed bitterly and ran his fingers through his hair, “If he was, they weren’t the Chitauri. But whoever got him was strong because Steve doesn’t go down easily.” He paced off a few feet and then kicked the wall of the burnt out apartment complex they were hidden by. “Dammit to hell!” he snarled brutally and Thor sighed again. 

“We shan’t linger, archer. We must go on with our plan; it is what our Captain would have desired, yes?” his quiet voice calmed the furious archer and Clint nodded.

“Yeah, we have to get out of here and over to the Hudson. Who knows how long it will take to get Stark’s reactor off-grid.” He rubbed his tired eyes wearily and turned to the blonde god, saying, “Ready to lead your lovely brother on a merry chase?”

Thor’s lips lifted in a fierce grin and he hefted his heavy hammer, “Aye, this will be most enjoyable!”

Clint sighed again and tried to keep from panicking. “All right, let’s get our tech and move out,” he murmured, his voice once more mild. 

Together they faded into the shadows of burning Brooklyn, each mentally readying themselves for the hopeless task he’d have to complete before nightfall. 

As the shadows lengthened and New York City once more fell into tense darkness thunder began rumbling on the horizon and what had once been Stark Tower was backlit by intermittent flashes of lightning. Clint watched from his perch upon the Metropolitan Museum of Art as the streets suddenly cleared of Loki’s armies; he sneered and hefted his SHIELD tech onto his back before swinging down from his balcony to run towards the Hudson.

In a matter of seconds the streets of New York had become exponentially safer.  
All thanks to a blonde haired Norse god of thunder.  
Steve was absolutely floored by this little base of rebels hiding out in the Grace Church; there were fifty untouched humans hiding out in this cathedral and all had specific jobs they were in charge of. Despite their civilian status, they conducted each task with a military efficiency and the entire operation ran without a hitch.

“Amazing,” he murmured as he watched an assembly line of women cleaning and stocking weaponry. In another section of the subterranean chapel children cleaned and repaired clothing. The air was filled with quiet chatter and hushed laughter. 

Steve glanced at his host, who was watching her colony thoughtfully and he asked, “Was this you? Did you organize them like this?” 

She shrugged and took his elbow, tugging him across the room to another door; as they went, curious eyes followed and he shivered as the air tensed at his appearance. But his host did not pause to introduce him. Instead she shoved him through the metal door at the back of the chapel and locked it. 

They were in the bottom of a stairwell, leading up into a walled courtyard. “Go up,” she said brusquely and he did, wondering why she was so tense. 

“You didn’t introduce me,” he murmured quietly as they mounted the courtyard. They both flinched at a loud clap of thunder and Steve frowned. Was this a natural storm? Or a product of Asgardian magic? He hoped it was the latter…

She brushed past him so she could lead him towards the ancient rectory backing the church. “Yeah, I don’t want to get their hopes up,” she muttered as she prowled forward.

He frowned at her tense back and said, “Oh, I guess that’s understandable. But, um, can you tell me what’s going on here? Where are all of the men?”

She didn't say anything, just pointed a finger skywards; he glanced up and his eyes narrowed at the sight of snipers hidden in the steeple and buttresses of the church. “Ah,” he murmured. The sky was darkening overhead and the promise of storms filled the air. Steve’s lips twitched in a secret smile as he followed his escort. 

She shrugged and pulled her key ring from her pocket once more; they were in a breezeway connecting the rectory with the crematorium and they had stopped in front of another heavy wooden door. 

“What is this place?” he murmured. 

She glanced at him, singled out the key she needed and shoved the door open, “Get in,” she said quietly. He brushed past her and as he went, she took the lantern from his hands. 

Steve glanced at her and then around the house they had entered. Unlike the church, it had seen very little damage. It was obviously where many of the refugees slept, as evidenced by blankets and personal belongings scattered around the room. It was empty now though and he wondered how these people lived. 

“We sleep, eat and patrol in shifts,” she supplied at his curious gaze as she led him through the house to a curved staircase at the rear near the kitchen. “During the day most people like to be up; they help the clergy or take on extra guard duty. In all honesty, none of us sleep very much anymore, not even the kids.” Her voice was quiet as she led him up the twisting stairs and found himself wondering how this young woman had become this group’s leader.

“How did you find them?” he asked. “When I pulled you from the bank…” his voice trailed off as they walked into a wood paneled hallway. 

She glanced at him over her shoulder and said, her voice cold, “You thought I was dead?”

He nodded as she pushed open a door at the end of the hallway and Steve’s eyes widened at the sight of a fully operational bathroom. 

“Be careful, we’re on a well so we have to control our water consumption. It’s one of the best things about this place in all honesty; an over abundance of candles and the never ending supply of water. God bless religious organizations and their ceaseless paranoia.” Her voice was wry as she perched on the sink and Steve realized that she wasn’t going to leave him alone during his ablutions.

His lips twitched as he thought, This one’s wily, watch it Rogers. But he’d known that already. 

She picked up their earlier conversation as he set about cleaning himself up. “I was very nearly dead,” she said, her voice quiet. Steve glanced at her and saw that her eyes were closed; she may not trust him but she at least respected him enough to give him a bit of privacy. He washed his hands as she continued, “But Father McCleary found me, along with several others and he brought us to the church. I don’t even want to think about how hard that was for the poor man; those lizard things were running rampant and the almighty Loki was flying overhead blasting anything that so much as twitched in his direction, but somehow the priest got us out of his beat up church van and into the mezzanine of Grace; some of the nuns have medical experience and they were able to get us patched up. The one good thing about Grace is its many missions; we’ve raided every shelter, every soup kitchen and every classroom on this campus for supplies and so far we’ve only had to make a few excursions into the surrounding neighborhood for equipment.” 

Steve listened to her as he scrubbed his face and when she fell silent he asked, “What about Beth? Did Father McCleary get her from the bank as well?”

He met her cold gaze and once more felt guilt deaden his limbs. “No,” she said shortly, turning to inspect her gloved fingers. “He never recovered Beth from the rubble, but judging from the amount of her blood covering me he wouldn’t have been able to do much for her except provide a decent last rite and a pretty urn.” 

Her voice was hard in the silence and Steve tried to fight off the memories of her bruised and broken body. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

She was silent for a moment and then she sighed, “Look, don’t worry about it. You had bigger fish to fry and we all saw you battling those lizards in the balcony. Who could have known that they each had grenades? There’s only so much a single person can do, even someone in spandex tights and a mask.” He hunched his shoulders against her voice and after a moment of awkward silence, she nudged him gently, “Hey, Captain, how about you take a shower? You smell and you look like you could do with one.” 

He glanced up at her and was amazed to see at least some forgiveness in her eyes. He nodded and started to remove his clothes; as he pulled his shirt over his head he froze and said, “You know, I don’t think I know your name.”

He dropped his shirt and watched her thoughtfully, wondering if she’d tell him. She simply stared at him, a small part of her amazed at the beautiful specimen of a man standing before her. 

“Hoo Bethie, if you weren’t dead already you sure as hell would be now,” she whispered. He frowned, perplexed at the dazed look on her face.

“I’m sorry?” he said, concern filling him at her pale cheeks and wild eyes.

She simply shook her head and clapped a hand over her eyes, “Just get in the shower big guy, I need to jumpstart my brain.” She laughed shakily as he shrugged and slid out of the rest of his dirty black clothes. She jumped at the sound of his pants dropping and she had to resist peeking at him through her fingers.

She couldn’t afford to be distracted by this beautiful man. At the sound of the shower curtain closing she sighed in relief and dropped her hand. 

His voice said over the cough and sputter of the water, “So what’s your name? Or should I just call you General?” His voice was light as he teased her and her lips lifted involuntarily. 

“I’m Regan,” she said, “But my friends call me Reggie.” 

He laughed as he lathered his hair with a bar of soap and said, “Oh yeah, I should have remembered that; your name was the same as that actor’s back in the day.”

Reggie frowned and laughed, “Actually I think my parents named me Regan because that actor became a president but okay.” 

Steve was quiet for a moment as he processed her words and then his hand poked out from around the curtain and she stretched out her own to shake it. “Steve Rogers,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” 

**

Clint couldn’t help blessing Coulson as he plunged into the icy Hudson armed with a SHIELD scuba system and a stocked utility belt. 

If there was one thing the agent had been good at, it had been his ability at squirreling away equipment around the City. He’d always joked in his deadpan way that his agents never knew when they’d need to make a quick get away from Fury’s temper. 

Now though, Clint was using the confiscated tech to try and undermine one of his friend’s monumental inventions. Stark had been so proud of this arc reactor and how it had meant his Tower was independent of the City’s questionable power grid. According to Steve, he’d had hopes that it would run for a good year before he’d have to upgrade it. 

Now, its lifespan was going to be cut in half. 

Luckily for them all the Asgardian in residence at Stark Tower had very little understanding of the arc and had thus forgotten to set a guard on its powerline. Clint grinned around his mask and accelerated through the cloudy water towards the heavy tube buried in the mud. 

Thanks to SHIELD’s databases they’d known the exact location of the arc and known how to cut the power. He wasn’t sure if Stark had known of SHIELD’s knowledge but it certainly made their lives easier. Steve had been afraid they’d have to attack the Tower when it was fully powered and protected; when Clint had returned from a recon of his former agency’s burnt headquarters in Queens and dropped a field laptop and external hard drive in the Captain’s lap they’d been able to make this plan.

Clint kind of wished the Captain was here beside him to help though. And he didn’t like the thought of how their blonde Asgardian was doing topside. What if his brother decided this threat was best met head on? Clint didn’t think even Thor would survive a face-to-face battle with Loki at this point; the conquering god had become all too powerful in the past six months. 

Although they suspected there was less of Loki at this point and more of the bastard Thor called Thanos. 

Finally he was up close and personal with Stark’s reactor. Clint had seen the blueprints and images of course, had even seen Stark’s personal arc reactor in his Suit, but nothing quite prepared him for the sight of bright blue light streaming through the polluted waters of the Hudson Bay.

Good God, he thought as he propelled himself closer to the Stark tech. This is amazing!

The far off rumble of thunder brought him back to his present mission and he pulled one of Nick Fury’s favorite weapons out of his utility belt. 

Fury had always called it the “De-Assholinator.” While it hadn’t been made for this specific arc reactor, it had been designed for Stark’s amazing tech. 

Clint smirked as he charged the little bastard up; Fury had always secretly wanted to use it on Stark and Clint considered this an homage to the deceased Director. Placing the SHIELD tech to the glowing surface of the arc reactor he prayed to all of the gods, including the blonde flying somewhere overhead, that SHIELD had designed something that would actually work.

And then he pulled the trigger. 

**

Reggie had found clothes that actually fit Steve; she hadn’t thought she’d be able to at first, seeing as how he was so much broader than most of the men in her camp. Thankfully one of the resident priests had been an avid weight-lifter. 

“Isn’t it kind of sacrilegious, me wearing a priest’s outfit?” Steve plucked at the stiff collar of his borrowed black shirt and tried not to squirm as she glanced at him over her shoulder.

Her lips were lifted in a smirk and her eyes glowed with wry humor. “Preacher togs suit you Captain,” she said brusquely, before heading towards the church bell tower. 

Steve sighed and followed her, feeling ridiculous in his black dress slacks and combat boots. “Where are we going now?” he asked, only slightly petulant as his stomach growled and the starched linen of the priest’s collar dug into his throat. 

She rolled her eyes at his tone and mounted the stairs for the steeple, “Where do you think we’re going, Einstein,” she snapped as she ran lightly up the stairs. 

He followed, his muscles burning at the climb. “I don’t need to follow you around while you survey your camp, Regan,” he muttered. 

She laughed lightly, not even a little breathless and said, “Yeah, you do Captain. I don’t have the man-power to guard you and frankly I wouldn’t trust them even if I did.” 

Steve frowned at that and muttered, “You don’t think I’d last the day if you set your men to guard me, do you.” 

She snorted as they finally reached the landing and she turned to him, her cheeks flushed and strands of her wild black hair blowing lightly around her face, “Let’s just say, I wouldn’t be placing all of my bets on you, Cap.” She patted his cheek lightly and then pushed her way into the bell-tower. 

He stood for a second on the landing and thought about what she’d said; then with a sigh and a forlorn glance out the shutters of the steeple, he followed her. 

“Something interesting’s happened at the Tower, Reg,” one of the men was saying as Steve entered the sniper’s roost Reggie had built. 

He glanced around interestedly at the inner workings of the church steeple and then turned his attention to the commander; she was standing on the small balustrade of the steeple, a sniper’s rifle perched expertly on her shoulder and her eye pressed to the scope. 

“That is interesting,” she murmured. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen that in the past.” Her companion, a man who looked to be in his mid to late twenties stood behind her, his hand planted on her hip. Steve’s eyes narrowed at that and he wondered if Regan had a lover in her camp.

He jumped when she snapped at him, “Any idea what’s going on at Loki’s banquet hall, Steve?” Her eyes were once more cold and calculating; he noted that she hadn’t called him Captain. 

She didn’t want his identity known to her companion. Interesting. 

He shrugged one shoulder and said mildly, “Can’t say I do, Reg.” He shoved his hands in his pants pocket and tried to keep from shivering in the chill air of the tower. 

She snorted and beckoned him over; he went, not missing the silent glare of the man still holding her hip, and took the snipers rifle from her gloved fingers. He hefted it experimentally and she said quietly, “It’s not loaded, so don’t get too excited big guy.” He glanced at her and saw the slight up-lift of her lips and he smirked as well.

“Doesn’t hurt to check,” he muttered. Then he lifted it to his shoulder and gazed through the scope to the Tower hunched on the horizon. 

They were right. Something interesting had happened at Stark Tower. 

“The power’s gone,” he muttered, his heart hammering. Good job Clint he thought to himself. He swung the rifle around so that he could gaze at the darkening clouds roiling over Staten Island. “Did you see if anyone left the Tower?” he said, command coloring his tone. 

Reggie’s companion glanced uncertainly at her and she nodded; he cleared his throat and said, “Yeah, half-an-hour ago Loki and some of his lizards left the Tower from the landing strip. They haven’t returned.” 

Steve’s heart wrenched at the thought of Thor battling his brother and he prayed the blonde god would succeed at least for a while in distracting Loki. 

“I have to go,” he said, lowering the rifle. “I need to help them.” He dropped down from the balustrade and moved towards the stairs. 

Reggie frowned and followed, “Who’s ‘them’ Steve? What do you know that you’re not telling us?” She caught his elbow as he started down the stairs. “Hey!” she snapped, hauling him to a stop. “I’m not done with you! What are you doing?!”

He turned to her and said, “Let me go Reggie, I have a mission to complete; don’t make me hurt you.” His voice was quiet, deadly in its calm and she paled at the emptiness in his eyes. 

“It’s a suicide mission, Steve,” she whispered. “Believe me, we’ve tried. You go to that Tower and you’re dead meat.” 

He smiled coldly and shook her hand from his arm, “But you never had a SHIELD operative or a Norse god on your side, Regan.” With that he once more headed down the stairs. 

He heard her snap a command at the guard in the tower and then her booted feet were clattering after him. 

“Captain,” she snapped to his retreating back, “Captain, stop and think. You’re not doing anyone any good going all Lone Ranger and taking on this asshole by yourself!”

“I won’t be by myself,” he ground out, the thought of Clint raiding Loki’s headquarters by himself making his blood run cold. 

“I don’t care who else is on your side, Captain! You need an army to get in that Tower and three guys won’t be enough,” she said, her voice whipping around him. 

He paused, midway down the stairs and turned to her with a frown, “What are you saying Regan?”

She sighed and planted her hands on her hips, “We’ve tried to do this before Steve; all of us are survivors of that onslaught. If you were the one who instigated the black out and if a friend of yours is out there over Liberty fighting Mr. High-and-Mighty then you need to go and help them.” He nodded and turned to go but she clapped a hand on his shoulder, once more stopping him, “Listen to me, big guy,” she snapped. He turned back to her, frowning and she said, “We can help you.” 

Steve stared at her for a moment and then shook his head, “No,” he ground out, the muscles of his jaw clenched tightly at the thought. “Enough civilians have died because of Loki. It’s my job to make sure you and your people never have to face him head-on again.” 

She laughed bitterly at that and shook her head. “You don’t realize, do you Captain America?” she said quietly. He stilled as she pulled the handgun from her hip and cocked it. 

“None of us are civilians anymore,” she said coldly, raising the gun so it rested between his eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

Staten Island

Loki came for him. 

In the end, Thor wasn’t surprised but it was rather disheartening to see his brother appear on his Chitauri drawn chariot, an evil grin on his lips and his unusual blue eyes glowing ominously in the intermittent bursts of lightning flashing through the sky around them. He of course was surrounded by his ever present honor guard of Chitauri and he of course, was armed with his scepter. 

Although, this scepter was slightly different than the one he had held at the beginning of the War.

“Greetings, Loki,” he said, his voice rumbling like thunder. Loki simply smirked and drew his guard to a halt. He dismounted from his chariot, stumbling slightly as his feet met firm ground but he straightened immediately; Thor wondered what this sudden weakness in his brother meant. 

“Well, Thor, I must admit I never expected to see you face-to-face again. Where is your starry soldier or your sharp eyed hawk? Have they finally abandoned this hopeless quest of yours? Have you come to tell me you return to the halls of our father, defeated and broken?” 

Loki’s voice grated on Thor; gone was his former smooth cadence. Instead, he spoke with bone rattling harshness that made his skin crawl.

“Cease this nonsense Loki!” roared Thor from his place before the green lady’s feet. 

Loki laughed and tossed his golden helmed head. “Ah, brother, you were always one for jests. Why should I stop my glorious rule when all is going so well? This world is healing because of me! Gone are the human scum besmirching its surface, gone the constant wars their pettiness began, gone the smoke clouding their azure skies! Look around you brother,” he swept his hand before him and Thor’s eyes narrowed at its skeletal appearance. “I have been a balm to this land and soon,” he smiled, his face twisting into the appearance of a mad man’s mask, “Soon this world will be an example for the rest in the universe.” 

Thor, already uneasy, went cold at those words. He drew his red cape around him and he said softly, “What have you done, brother? What madness have you unleashed?”

For a second, uncertainty appeared in Loki’s eyes and he glanced around him. Then his Chitauri captain pulled his hovering chariot close to the horned King and he murmured in his ear. Loki jerked, as if scalded, and when he turned back to Thor, his eyes were once more the electric blue Thor had grown to hate. 

“Silence brother! Do not seek to distract me!” He pointed the ever important scepter at his golden haired brother, his green cloak snapping furiously in the winds Thor had called down. “Your games are as nothing compared to my might! So surrender.” He purred this last as his chariot drew ever nearer to Thor’s perch. 

The golden haired god sighed wearily and tightened his grasp upon Mjolnir. “Never shall I stop protecting this Realm, Loki. No matter how many of my friends you kill, no matter how much your Master craves of its sweet air. Ever shall I ward it and ever shall I strive to gainsay your control. That I swear, upon Mjolnir’s staff I swear.” A mighty clap of thunder supported his words and the Chitauri soldiers chattered worriedly, their purple eyes shifting as the storm thickened. 

Loki simply smirked and shrugged his slender shoulders, “Ah, your soldier has made you brave,” he murmured softly, his new voice scraping over the words falling from his lips and his bright blue eyes glowed wickedly. “I swear to you brother, I will never understand your love for these small-minded humans! They are so much weaker than us, so much smaller! How can you love them so?” He stretched out his fingers and stroked Mjolnir’s surface, his blue eyes sparkling as Thor snarled. “Ah, well, it is of no consequence now, beloved brother. Soon your body will be sent to our father in his golden halls. I grow weary of your meddling.” 

He turned away and Thor bowed his head. 

Just as his brother prepared to use his dark magics to finish him, though, Thor began to laugh; thunder rumbled, melding with his voice and Loki froze, his eyes widening. “Why do you laugh, fool,” he snarled, unease trickling down his knobby spine.

“I laugh because you, not I, are the fool, Loki,” he murmured. He raised his head and grinned, bitterness filling his eyes. “You think you will be king of this Realm and every Realm throughout the heavens but I think you will not last the winter. Be wary of those you call ‘friend’ Loki, for their knives will ever be sharp as they twist within your back.” 

And then before any of Loki’s guards could react, he stood and swung his hammer in a mighty arc to strike the foot of the green lady overshadowing them.

A vibrating hum burst through the air and Loki and his army found themselves thrown several hundred yards out about the Bay as a bright light, far brighter than any lightning bolt, exploded through the sky and a red blur burst through its middle, flying back home towards Manhattan. 

Thor’s bitter laugh rumbled from his chest as he flew over the burning City; even if they had lost their Captain, his plan had worked. 

Luckily for them all, the metal of his starry shield could be found throughout the green lady guarding the shores of this City. 

**

Clint was running through the streets as an invisible countdown clock ticked away in his head; he knew he had only moments to break into the now dark Tower, upload the virus to the downed computer system and get out. 

Thor would only be able to keep Loki distracted for so long and if he was still in the Tower when the vibranium and Mjolnir smashed together then he was one dead archer. 

He knew the Tower was empty of all but a skeleton guard; Loki would have taken his honor guards with him to confront Thor which left the Tower essentially unprotected. Loki would not expect its power to be sapped away and if their intelligence was correct he’d done very little to improve upon Stark’s tech. 

Not that he’d have been able to. Tony Stark had been a genius after all. 

Clint’s fingers tightened upon his bow as he crept from the broken remains of the Empire State Building. While Loki may be out to confront his troublesome brother, that didn’t mean the streets of New York were any safer. Drones may still wander about and the Chitauri could be nearby as well. He would have to be very careful about this. 

He was about to peel across 54th Street towards the subterranean garage beneath Stark’s Tower when the comm link in his ear came alive. 

“Hawkeye, Hawkeye come in please.”

He flinched and almost tore the piece from his ear. “Jesus Cap! How many times do I have to tell you? You don’t have to scream into these things!” he snapped, shocked and in pain at the bellowing Captain’s voice stabbing his eardrum. 

A chuckle rippled from the link, which made Clint’s eyebrows rise in surprise and then Cap said, only marginally quieter, “Sorry. I always forget how sensitive these things are; they’re not like the radios we used in the War.”

Clint rolled his eyes and muttered, “Yeah, yeah, we all know you’re an antique. Jesus, where have you been?” He sank deeper in the shadows and his eyes drifted around as he conversed with the invisible Captain. 

He was quiet for a moment and then he spoke, his voice hesitant, “It’s a long story Hawk. I’ll tell you about it later. Listen, I have reinforcements, what is your location.” 

For the first time since he’d heard the Captain’s voice bellowing in his ear, Clint felt unease trickle down his spine. “Can’t tell you that Captain,” he ground out, his fingers tightening on the bow he held. “You could be a drone, or this could be a trick.” 

Steve sighed and Clint flinched at the feedback the link picked up, “Yeah you’re right.” He was quiet for a moment and Clint pictured his brow wrinkling and his blue eyes darkening as he thought of a way to prove to the agent that he was indeed Steve Rogers, Captain America.

“Remember that night, not long after Loki took over the world and Natasha came to us?” Steve’s voice was quiet, pain filled at the memory and Clint closed his eyes in agony.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Yeah I remember that.” 

“Do you remember what I told you when she vanished into the rafters of that warehouse we were kipped out in?” Steve’s voice wasn’t desperate. He wasn’t desperate for Clint to believe him. Instead he just shared the other man’s agony at the memory of the greatest betrayal each had ever experienced. 

Clint’s voice cracked as he whispered into the link between them, “You told me the next time I saw her that I should put an arrow through her eye.” He shivered and remembered the previous day when his best friend had strolled past him clothed in a skin tight red gown; he had disobeyed Steve’s order. 

Steve was quiet when Clint’s voice trailed off and he sighed again making the comm hum slightly. “Yeah, I was an ass that night Clint. Now where are you?”

Clint took a deep breath and gazed up the now dark Tower he crouched under. “Right at the belly of the beast Cap, get your starry butt over here.” 

“I’ll be there soon,” Cap muttered; in the background Clint could hear a woman’s voice speaking and he frowned. Who was Steve with?

“Better bring your shield,” Clint said, adrenaline beginning to warm his veins.

“Of course,” Steve murmured, laughter underscoring his words. 

“Any sign of our Asgardian god of shampoo?” Clint smiled as he said the words and Steve actually laughed this time. 

“Staten Island looks like it’s the center of a hurricane; he’s a little busy right now.” 

“Figured as much. How many people you got?” Clint was itching to go; he hoped Steve and his team would arrive soon. 

“Enough. Wait for us.” 

“Yes sir,” Clint murmured as he settled to wait. “Better hurry though, we don’t know how long Thor will be able to hold him off.” 

“He’ll hold him as long as he can. We’re coming up on your location; make your presence known please.” Steve sounded like he was running; his breath coming in quick, controlled bursts and Clint poked his head around the wall he knelt behind.

His mouth dropped at the sight coming towards him; “Jesus Cap, where’d you find the army?”

A soft chuckle and then, “God’s Grace, Agent, always finds a way to help those who need it, even in these dark times.” 

And Clint Barton, self-proclaimed Atheist, had to kind of agree with the Captain bearing down on him.

Because the sight of five normal humans armed to the teeth at his back kind of made him a believer again. 

**

As they ran through the streets of New York towards what had once been Stark Tower, a small part of Reggie wondered if perhaps she was finally going to die tonight. She wouldn’t be surprised if she did and let’s face it, it was really only a matter of time. 

She hoped it would be a quick death.

When they turned the corner of 54th Street and Steve saw his friend, the assassin with mad archery skills, she had to hope that maybe they’d pull out of this. After all, these guys were superheroes. 

“He doesn’t look that impressive,” Jason murmured in her ear and she smirked. 

“I always thought archery was a dead sport,” she muttered back as she slid her sunglasses up her nose and rearranged the gun slung across her chest. 

Jason chuckled and said, “Well it certainly is now.” He smirked and nodded to the rest of their team; the four men vanished into the shadows, instinctively keeping an eye out for any enemy soldiers. None of them really wanted to get caught with their “pants down,” as Reggie always called it when on recon. 

Steve and his archer buddy were talking quietly and from what she could hear, they were arguing about how this whole mission thing was going to work. She sighed and resisted making a quip about rulers and measurements. 

“How about we just follow the plan the Captain and I came up with and go from there,” she said, her voice cold as she sidled up to them. 

The archer spared a quick glance in her direction and he said in a chillingly indifferent voice, “You brought a woman?” 

Before Steve could say anything she pointed a gloved finger in the archer’s face and snapped, “Listen bub, I don’t care if you’re the Olympic gold medalist for Russia’s archery team, I can hold my own against you and anything his gold horned holiness throws at me, got it? Don’t mess with me today.” She turned to Steve then and muttered, “Let’s just get this over with Cap. I want to get my men home to their families.” 

And with that she prowled away to join Jason. 

Clint just gaped at her after her and said in a shocked voice, “Jesus Cap! Where’d you find her?” 

Steve sighed and muttered as he adjusted his shield, “Don’t take the lord’s name in vain Clint. And if you really want to know, she and her men found me in an alley and kicked the living daylights out of me.” He smiled wryly as his friend laughed in disbelief.

“And you brought her along for this suicide mission,” he said, shaking his head. 

Steve shrugged and muttered, “She held a gun to my head and said that if I didn’t let her and her men help then she’d put a bullet between my eyes and go after you instead.” He turned and headed over to where Reggie and Jason knelt, going over last minute details of their plan. 

“Holy shit,” Clint muttered. Then he followed the Captain; catching up to the man he said, “Well, maybe we should just set her on Loki; if she can take you out she’d probably take the Asgardian out as well.” 

Steve only glanced at him and shook his head. “Are you and your men ready for this Reggie?” he asked as he crouched next to her.

She nodded, her eyes fierce behind the aviators and said calmly, “We go in, cover your asses as you upload the virus, steal Stark’s tech and then we run like hell.” She smiled widely and fingered the gun strapped at her hip. “Should be fun,” she murmured. 

Jason snorted and shook his head while Clint only swore to himself and tried to not make parallels between this woman and certain friends he had once had. 

Steve stared at her for a moment, glanced at the dark lightning ridding skies above them and then sighed. 

“All right, let’s get this over with. We don’t know how long Thor can keep Loki’s attention,” he muttered as he stood. 

And with that, seven shadows slipped into the basement of Stark Tower while thunder rumbled overhead. 

**

The blueprints of Stark’s Tower were thankfully very detailed; as it was they got lost twice, turned around in the maze of labs and now silent R&D Stark had designed for his company’s scientists. Each time they stumbled into a black room filled with dusty equipment they wondered if they were going to die within this fossil of a building.

Oddly enough, that was when the leadership skills of Reggie and Steve really became prevalent. She’d joke and tease, her husky voice warm in the darkness while he would use quiet words of encouragement, unconsciously taking up his Captain America role. 

Each of them managed to keep the five men they commanded calm and collected. 

They were moving slowly down a hidden hallway Clint had found, he and Steve in the lead with Reggie bringing up the rear; Clint glanced over his shoulder, silently taking stock of their raggedy team. 

Steve glanced at him, a small smile on his lips and he murmured, “They’re fine Clint. They won’t lose their calm.”

The archer snorted lightly and turned back to the map he held; “I know,” he muttered. “I was just making sure your lady-friend was okay at the back there. Don’t fancy her position.” He flicked his flashlight up and down the hall and then asked, “Does she remind you of anyone, Steve?”

He sincerely hoped the good Captain had.

Steve’s lips twitched as they stopped outside of a door at the end of the hall; Reggie and her men took up guard duty while the archer worked on opening the door. According to the blueprint, this was Tony’s private lab; it was where his mainframe would be as well as his stockpile of suits and arc reactors. As Clint started hotwiring the door Steve ran his fingers over his shield and considered the girl standing a ways down the hall with her shot gun held at the ready. 

“She reminds me of Tony,” he murmured to the agent who glanced at him in relief. “She has a certain hopelessness about her that reminds me of him and yet,” he paused and ran his fingers over the golden whiskers on his chin. “She is so strong, so determined, it’s impossible to think of her surrendering, ever. And that’s very like Stark too.” 

Clint nodded and then started to laugh as the door slid slowly open. “Well, there we go! That wasn’t too hard.” He glanced at Steve and clapped his hand on the Captain’s shoulder and murmured as Reggie and her team clustered around them, “I completely agree with you Cap.” 

Steve nodded but before he could say anything to his friend, Reggie spoke, “Boys, what’s that blue light?” 

As one, they all turned to the open doorway of Tony Stark’s inner sanctum and blinked in the dazzling blue light pouring from within.

“I thought you cut the arc’s power, Clint,” Steve murmured as they unconsciously tightened their grips upon their respective weapons. 

Clint swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry, and he whispered, “I did; used Fury’s toy and everything.” 

They were silent for a moment and then Reggie cleared her throat. “Well, let’s find out what’s still powered up then!” And she shoved her way between the men clustered in the doorway and entered Tony Stark’s private lab. 

That was when all hell broke loose.


	6. Chapter 6

“Captain, you can set me down now.” 

Reggie’s voice was muffled from her position in Steve’s arms; he only shook his head and continued running through the alley toward their designated rendezvous. 

“Be quiet Regan,” he snapped as his arms tightened around her slender form. He tried to ignore the feel of warm blood congealing between his fingers. He had to get her medical aid. 

“Really Captain,” she said with a sigh, “I’m all right, please set me down.” Her once fierce voice was plaintive and his heart wrenched. 

“No,” he snapped as he slid to a halt at the entrance to the alley. He glanced behind him and heaved a sigh of relief; they’d outrun the Chitauri following them. Even with a grown woman in his arms, Steve Rogers was far faster than the clumsy aliens. He’d vaulted over more broken walls and upturned dumpsters tonight than ever before and he couldn’t help feeling exhilarated at this sprint. 

He hadn’t had a chance to really stretch his legs for weeks. He shifted her body in his arms and glanced up and down the street before sliding carefully out of the shadows; all was silent and they both sighed as they mounted the stairs of the New York City Public Library. 

Reggie, her head tucked under his chin, gazed vaguely at the lion statues they passed under and tried to ignore the pain radiating from the still bleeding wound in her side; she’d forgotten how nasty the Chitauri’s weapons were. She kind of wished she’d never remembered…

She flinched as Steve’s hand brushed her side and she blinked the sudden burst of fireworks from her eyes. She would not faint in Captain America’s arms! 

As they mounted the terrace circling the library, three shadowy figures slid out from behind the pillars and Steve breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Clint and two of Reggie’s men. 

“Clint,” he murmured as the archer approached them. “Thank God, I was afraid you hadn’t made it.” 

Clint nodded and turned his piercing gaze to the woman in Steve’s arms, “Yeah, we got out all right, thanks to you two. What happened to you Reg?” 

She sighed in frustration, ignoring the worried glances all of the men shared at the tremulous sound, and muttered, “I had a stand-off with a lizard.” 

Steve snorted as they headed into the library and his arms tightened once more around her, “She walked right into a trap is what happened; she’s lucky I was there to help her.”   
She opened her mouth to protest this but then she sighed and rested her suddenly heavy head back to his chest. “All right, all right. You’re right. But I wasn’t completely hopeless! I did take out a couple on my own,” she murmured fiercely. 

Steve chuckled and stroked her hair gently as they slid into the shadowy atrium of the library. Clint watched this all quietly and as they moved into the stacks he muttered to the Captain, “Can we talk about what we saw back there, Cap?”

Steve only shook his head and said, “No. We talk about it later, not here. Who made it back?”

Clint sighed and then chuckled, “Well, everyone made it back okay. You two are the last ones.” 

Steve glanced at him as he set Reggie on an empty table and murmured, “Everyone, Clint?” 

Before the archer could reply, a thundering chuckle came from the shadowy shelves and Reggie squawked and grabbed her handgun as a towering figure appeared before them. 

“Thor!” Steve exclaimed in relief as he moved to give the towering god a hug. They clapped shoulders and Thor chuckled again before turning to a stunned Reggie, still holding her gun in his direction.

“Greetings fair maid! You are the fierce Valkyrie the archer spoke of?” he said in his deep voice. She jumped as he bowed over her and she swallowed before darting her gaze to a smiling Steve.

He nodded and she lowered her gun. “Um, not exactly sure what a ‘Valkyrie’ is but yeah I teamed up with Steve and Clint here,” she murmured as he caught up her hand and planted a tender kiss on her knuckles. She stared at him in amazement and then choked out, “Who are you?!” 

He chuckled once more as he straightened and her eyes widened at the sight of the scarlet cape rippling over his shoulders and his bulging biceps. Her mind spun as she wondered if perhaps she’d lost too much blood and was dreaming this blonde giant up but then he spoke again, “I am Thor Odinson, sweet maid, a prince of a faraway realm called Asgard and I am a guardian of this world.” 

Her eyes grew even wider as he spoke and Steve steadied her as she swayed on the table. “That’s enough, we have to get Regan back to Grace so her people can help her; we’ll discuss what we saw at Stark Tower later,” he murmured before gathering Reggie back into his arms. 

He hid his concern as she didn’t even protest his handling and he tucked her head once more under his chin. Silently, they left the library, eight darting shadows running through the broken streets of New York. 

Reggie smiled despite the pain burning through her body and curled herself tighter in Steve’s arms. They may have failed to upload the virus into Stark’s mainframe but she had to admit tonight had been fun. 

And they’d made some interesting discoveries. 

As they slipped undetected into Grace’s sanctuary she started to laugh; all of the men stopped to stare at her and as Steve set her carefully down, making sure to keep his hand on her waist so she wouldn’t crumple, she said, “So…what are we going to do about the resident billionaire playboy currently hooked up to the blue cube of destiny in the Tower basement?” 

They all stared at each other as the implications of what had happened in the past hour finally hit them.

Tony Stark was alive in the basement of Stark Tower. 

And they were going to go back to Stark Tower and get him out. 

**

“You’re going after Stark, aren’t you?” 

Steve jumped as Reggie materialized at his side out of the shadows of Grace’s sanctuary. He turned to look at her and frowned as he took in her hunched form and the paleness of her cheeks. 

“You should be lying down,” he said quietly, before turning back to gaze at the nude altar at the front of the church.

She sighed and slid into the pew next to him, silently blessing the darkness of the church so he couldn’t see her trembling. 

“My bed’s taken,” she muttered and he frowned. Her shadowed eyes gazed pointedly at him and he choked back a laugh.

“You sleep in the sanctuary?” he said, shocked. 

She shrugged and her head dropped to the back of the pew. “It makes sense,” she murmured. “If the church is going to be attacked, this is where they’ll come through; it’s happened before.” 

Steve stared at her, once more floored at this woman’s quiet command. “That’s…” his voice trailed off and he sighed, rubbing his hands roughly over his face. “That’s pretty impressive Regan,” he muttered. 

She shrugged, “It’s my job to protect these people. Sometimes personal sacrifices have to be made, even if it means sleeping on the rock hard pews of a defunct cathedral.”

Her voice was wry and Steve frowned, “You’re not very religious, are you Regan?” 

She straightened and turned to him, the shadows hiding her wince as the freshly stitched wound in her side twinged. “How can I be religious Captain? Even before the world ended, how could I pretend there was a god watching over me? I walked through the streets of New York every day and watched the homeless beg and the junkies waste away. My little brother was addicted to more drugs than I can name and yet you think I can sit back and say ‘God will take care of us’? No. That was never an option for me.” Her voice was harsh and tears pricked her eyes. 

Steve only stared at her and then turned his gaze to the crucifix that towered over them. “I’m sorry,” he murmured after a moment.

Reggie snorted and sagged back against the pew. “Don’t apologize; you don’t need too. You and Tony Stark and the rest of your team were the one good thing that came out of this world. Even if Loki won the day you showed him a good fight. You showed that we have at least a bit of a backbone,” her husky voice washed over Steve and he shivered.

They were quiet for a moment and then Reggie nudged him with her elbow. “Good job distracting me, Cap,” she said, her voice light. He frowned and started to say something. She stopped him. “Just don’t Cap. I’m coming with you. There’s no other option.” 

Steve shook his head, “No, no way in hell you’re going back in there Regan!” 

She laughed and said, “Good luck stopping me Captain. I’ve already asked Clint and Thor. They’ve agreed. If you boys go in there, there’s a chance that you can stop Loki, that all of this,” she gestured to the dark church, “can be over. And I need to be there to help you.” 

Steve stared at her and felt his control start to slip from his fingers. “No,” he snapped as he stood and shoved past her. 

She watched him rush down the worn carpet of the aisle and shouted, “I’ll be there in the morning Cap. Clint’s promised to wake me up. I’ve got just as much of a right to this battle as you Captain America!” 

He paused, his hand on the heavy oak of the sanctuary doors and his shoulders hunch under her voice. Then as her voice died away, he was gone. She sighed as the doors banged shut and then she turned to look at the towering wooden crucifix still attached to the ceiling. 

“Oh God,” she murmured, her fingers steepled as she pressed her forehead to the pew in front of her. “Please let this end tomorrow. Please let this be the end of this entire nightmare…” 

When Clint shook her awake in the early hours of dawn, she was still praying, her mind churning out the mantra of the night before. Maybe if she repeated it over and over the words would come true. 

She could hope…


	7. Chapter 7

“Cap, you can’t do this!” 

“I have to Regan.”

“But he’s attached to the mainframe! He is the mainframe! Uploading that virus is going to kill Tony Stark!” 

Regan could not believe that this was happening; that Captain America was considering killing his friend, when they’d been so sure they’d be able to rescue him. Her eyes kept darting between the masked Captain and Clint, she refused to look at the nearly naked form of Tony Stark towering over them suspended in a field of swirling blue light. If she looked at him, she may cry because he may not be dead now, but if Steve had his way he would be soon. 

“We don’t have time to figure out how to disconnect him Regan. This Tower is falling down around our ears and if we don’t kill the Tesseract’s power, then Loki wins. Again.” Steve’s voice was harsh as he considered losing once more to the Asgardian. He refused to allow that to happen. Tony would have understood…

Reggie finally raised her eyes to the blue shrouded head of Stark Industries. It was funny, she mused, as she gazed at Tony Stark with his glowing arc reactor and gray streaked black hair, she’d always dreamt of meeting Stark, had always wished she could stand near him. And here she was and they were going to kill him. 

“Regan, we don’t have a choice,” Clint’s practical voice broke through her sorrow and her eyes snapped to him. “His arc reactor is attached to the Tesseract; somehow Selvig’s programming has Tony controlling the portal that Loki’s power is filtering through. We can’t spend time trying to figure out how the particulars work. We have to upload the virus and hope that it will be enough to shut the Tesseract down.” 

“And his arc reactor,” she whispered, her voice agonized. 

Clint nodded as the ceiling trembled ominously. They all knew Steve was right about one thing; Stark Tower was on the verge of collapse. Somewhere above them, Thor and the newly freed Hulk were wreaking havoc on Loki and his forces. 

They were all running out of time. 

“Please,” she whispered, dragging her eyes back to Steve’s. “Please find a way.” 

Steve’s eyes were agonized as he turned to Clint whose fingers were flying over the keys of the laptop propped at Tony Stark’s feet. 

“Clint, can you?” he ground out. 

“I’m trying Cap,” the archer muttered, his brow furrowing as the complicated coding flew across the screen. “But Selvig’s coding is tricky.” He glanced up and shrugged one shoulder, “It’s written in Swedish,” he finished, turning back to his work. 

The sickeningly blue light washed over them all and Steve nodded grimly. “Keep working on it. If you can’t find a way within the next ten minutes then upload the damn virus. We have to get out of here before Loki kills Thor.” 

His voice was harsh as the Tower floor jiggled under their feet and Regan flinched at the Captain’s suppressed anger. If they didn’t get out, if the virus failed, if Loki killed Steve’s friend, then he would blame her. 

Hell, she’d blame herself too.

Steve glanced at the three people before him and then sighed. “I can’t stand here anymore; I have to help Thor and Bruce,” he ground out, his fingers tightening around the leather straps of his shield. Before either of them could react, he had rushed out of Tony Stark’s workshop. 

They were buried in Stark Tower, in what had once been his personal lab; all around them were the skeletal remains of his Suits and his bots. The moment Steve left, the shadows seemed to deepen and Regan’s skin crawled. 

She didn’t like not having the Captain at her side. 

As the door slid closed behind Steve, Clint glanced at her and smiled sadly, “He’s never handled losing well.”

Her fingers tightened upon the handgun strapped at her hip and she murmured, “Is that what we’re doing here Clint?” 

He shrugged, his fingers not missing a beat as he worked on defragging the complicated code before him. “I think we’ve been losing for six months, Reg,” he said, softly. 

Silence fell over the workshop as overhead came the dull thundering of battle and each knew that no matter what happened, they weren’t going to make it out of this alive. 

Reggie started to pace two minutes after Steve left; back and forth she prowled her eyes darting from shadow to shadow and over the still form of the comatose billionaire. The sight of him covered in cords and that twisting blue film made her want to vomit. For some reason, this seemed the worst of Loki’s machinations; he’d taken something beautiful, something made of pure human genius and turned it to his will. He’d corrupted the thing keeping Tony Stark alive. 

The minutes dragged by and as Clint growled unintelligible curses at the computer and Reggie paced restlessly a thought struck them both at the same time.

“The scepter,” they both whispered, their eyes locking on each other’s from across the lab. 

“How could we have been so stupid?” Clint exclaimed as he stood. 

She stopped him and shook her head, “Keep working on that code; if I don’t come back or if you think you can’t do anything here to save Stark, then dump the virus and haul ass. I’ll go after the scepter; I’m going crazy down here anyway.” Her eyes glittered in the ethereal light and Clint nodded. 

“Get out of here; tell the Cap what you’re doing and if you can, get Thor to help you. That scepter is our best bet at this point.” 

They stared at each other for a few seconds and then she was gone, sliding into the shadows silently, and leaving Clint to his hopeless task. 

“Well, it’s just you and me Stark,” he muttered as he went back to the laptop and the flying code.

“And me,” said a woman’s coldly accented voice. 

Clint’s fingers froze mid-sentence as the hair on the back of his neck stood straight up. 

“Natasha,” he whispered, his voice agonized. 

“Me,” she whispered as she rested the barrel of her handgun to his temple. 

**

In the end, it was easy to steal the scepter. 

A little too easy. 

“Well, well,” purred a voice from behind Reggie. She turned slowly to see Loki creeping down the dark stairs she had just rushed down. Her heart froze at the cold gleam of his eyes and her hands tightened around the golden staff of the staff. 

“So the Captain sent his little whore into the battle and while I was distracted, while I let the scepter slip from my grasp, you flitted in and stole it from me.” He tsked as his booted feet tread the steps slowly. 

Regan backed down the stairs, her eyes wide. She had no illusions as to how a confrontation with the horned god would go. 

“Maybe you should keep a better watch on your toys, bud,” she ground out.   
A soft chuckle rippled down the stairs and he actually clapped his hands. “Oh ho! This girl has spunk! So much spirit! How…human,” he snarled as he slid ever closer. 

Reggie was frozen, her feet inexplicably glued to the steps she stood on and she watched in horrified fascination as his hand crept up to cup her face. 

Before she could flinch away a thunderous voice echoed down the stairs.

“Regan! Behind you!” 

Her eyes rose from the crazed gods’ at the sound of Steve’s voice and in her moment of distraction, someone crept up behind her, wrenched the scepter from her grasp and stabbed its blade into her back. 

Reggie’s vision faded as she saw Captain America throw himself down the stairs and pass right through Loki on his way to battle the real horned god who had crept up behind her while she was distracted and stabbed her As she sagged to the floor, she wondered how he’d pulled off that magic trick. 

**

“…Keep applying pressure to that wound Clint…”

“Steve, she’s going to bleed out…”

“Place that scepter at the crown of the portal Natasha…”

“There’s no time-“

“Just do it!”

Reggie’s eyes snapped open at Steve’s snarled order; she groaned as pain gripped her chest and her fingers scrabbled on the cold cement floor she was lying on. For one brief moment she felt like she had been back home, in bed with her boyfriend Mitchell…

“God, we’re still here,” she ground out, her vision spinning as she rolled her head in the direction of the commanding voices coming from where Stark still suspended. 

“Hey there kid,” said a soft voice and she became aware of sturdy male hands pressed tightly against her chest. 

She coughed painfully and rolled her eyes forward to see Clint smiling wryly at her. 

“Hey archer,” she said weakly. “What happened to your jaw?” she asked, her fingers rising to weakly brush against the dark bruise marring his stubbled jawline. 

He chuckled and said, “Oh, had a run-in with an ex. You know how those go, right?” She laughed but stopped when it turned into a painful cough and he tried to pretend he didn’t notice the blood dribbling from the corner of her mouth. “You still with us?” he asked and she flapped a hand in his direction.

“More or less. What’s Cap snarling about?” she asked, once more turning her head so she could see a scarlet clad woman with a painful black eye marring her delicate features holding the scepter and easing it gently into the swirling blue field surrounding Tony Stark and the Tesseract. 

Clint chuckled and shrugged, his hands still pressing against Reggie’s wound. “Oh he’s just pissed that you and I took matters into our hands and that you almost died,” he said, his mild voice shaking only slightly. 

“Oh,” she murmured, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of a crumpled Loki being sat on by the Hulk. “I missed a lot, didn’t I?” she said. 

Before Clint could respond there was a flash of brilliant blue light and a roaring wind whipped through the lab. 

Then, everything went dark. 

A woman’s soft laugh filled the silence of the lab and the Hulk growled ominously. Reggie’s eyes struggled to make anything out in the gloom and then just as she started panicking, a soft blue light began to glow from near the floor and a man’s wracking cough filled the lab. 

“What the hell?!” said a familiar voice. “Who turned off the fucking lights? JARVIS! Where the hell am I?!”

Reggie laughed weakly as she saw the dim silhouette of Tony Stark stand up from where his body had landed after the Tesseract’s power had been nullified. Clint, his fingers slick with her blood, only gazed at the reawakened head of Stark Industries and said, “Holy shit!” 

Steve had eyes only for the battered body of Regan. Now that Stark had been saved, Loki had been contained and Thor was working on rounding up the remaining Chitauri in Stark Tower, his first concern was getting Regan out of the Tower and back to the relative safety of Grace. 

“Regan?” he said softly as he dropped to his knees. “You still with me?”

She rolled her eyes up to his and smiled; Steve shuddered as the blue light of Tony’s arc caught the blood smearing her lips. “Hey there Cap. I think we won,” she said, her voice faint. 

“Yeah,” he murmured, tears filling his eyes as he gripped her ice-cold hand. “Yeah, we won. Thanks to you.” 

Her eyes fluttered closed and she hissed as pain once more ripped through her chest and she whispered, “Excellent. Now I can finally get some sleep…” 

Steve stared at her still form and tried to keep the tears filming his eyes from falling. As he blinked furiously, his vision blurred and for a second he thought he stood in the burning streets of New York City and that the person lying before him was not Regan Carlson, but the Suited body of Tony Stark. 

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder and he glanced up, a frown wrinkling his brow and he saw Clint in a rumpled blue suit smiling at him. 

“Hey, Cap! You gotta wake up buddy,” he said, his voice echoing as if it came from a great distance. Sunlight caught the grey in his hair and Steve frowned as he continued, “You’re talking in your sleep and freaking JARVIS out. Can you hear me, Cap?” He snapped his fingers in front of Steve’s eyes; Steve jumped as they snapped open and he realized he was lying in a very soft bed in a spacious sun filled bedroom. 

“What-“ he gasped as he sat up, his mind swirling with visions of dying friends and Loki grinning at him from underneath a golden helmet. “What happened?! Where am I?!” he choked out. 

Clint chuckled and collapsed into the chair at the side of the Captain’s bed. “You were dreaming, Cap,” he said. “Seemed to be pretty intense too.” He eyed the still disoriented super-soldier who was staring around the bedroom wildly. 

“Want to tell me about it?” Clint said softly, his eyes softening as the Captain’s panic became evident.

Steve, realizing he was in the relative safety of Stark Tower, sighed and dropped his head into his hands. “Hell…I dreamt I was in absolute hell,” he muttered. 

Clint was quiet for a moment before saying mildly, “That all? You kept saying someone’s name, someone who seemed pretty important to you.” 

Steve’s shoulders hunched as he choked out, “The girl. Her name was Regan Carlson and she was amazing, Clint.” 

Clint chuckled and leaned back in the chair, “Oh-ho! A sex dream? Cap, you dog!”

Steve raised his head and his eyes were still vague as he struggled with the dual images filling his mind. He could still hear her husky voice and still see her icy blue eyes glaring at him through her aviator sunglasses. He shook his head and murmured, “It’s not what you think…she was amazing because…” his voice trailed off and he rubbed his hands roughly over the stubble of his beard. Clint waited, his eyes sparkling cheekily. 

Steve sighed again and stood; turning back to his friend, he said, “She was amazing because she saved the world, Clint.”


	8. Come Away Little Lamb

In the end Clint dragged Steve along with him to the Starbucks a block away from Stark Tower. Steve hadn’t wanted to go, but considering he had somehow ended up in the SHIELD agent’s bed last night and not his own, thus keeping the hungover archer from getting any rest, he’d agreed to come along. 

He was still on-edge though as they walked through the closed streets of Midtown towards the one Starbucks that was open after Loki’s failed machinations; he kept looking around expecting to see Chitauri soldiers creeping through the alleys they passed. 

But the City was safe and the alien threat was gone. Thanks to the Avengers.

His lips twitched at the thought and he rolled his shoulders. The world was safe. Loki hadn’t won. The Chitauri were gone and Stark Tower still stood. He sighed and Clint glanced at him. “Want to tell me about your dream, old man?” he said mildly as he shoved his hands in his wrinkled dress pants pockets. He wondered if the Captain would. 

Steve frowned and gazed at the battered buildings around them. “I don’t really remember that much about it anymore,” he murmured. “It’s just the remnants of emotions and faces, nothing solid anymore.”

Clint nodded and whistled a Billy Joel lyric from a song that he had sung to Natasha at their favorite bar the night before. The two men continued on in silence and then Steve asked, “Do you ever wonder what would have happened if…”

The agent glanced at him and nodded, “Oh yeah. I had nightmares for days after Thor took Loki back to Asgard; it was awful. I think we’ve all had dreams like that Cap. Or at least Banner, Nat and I have. I don’t think Stark sleeps that much and we knew you didn’t sleep after the battle.” Steve shoved his hands into his coat’s pockets and frowned. Clint, sensing his discomfort stopped and placed a hand on the bigger man’s arm, “Hey! There’s no shame in wondering, Cap! It’s perfectly normal. You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t go over that day at least a couple times in your head. We all do it.” 

Steve nodded and sighed deeply before saying, “It was just so hopeless and I was so sure it was real…That she was real.” 

Clint shrugged and continued down the sidewalk; their Starbucks was up ahead and he could see a few customers on the patio. “Maybe she is real, Cap. You never know; you could have seen her that day in the streets and your brain just picked up on her and created something for you to latch onto. You never know.” 

Steve chuckled as they entered the coffee house’s outdoor seating area and murmured, “There’s no way she exists. She was too real, too big.” 

Clint glanced at him and shrugged, “Well,” he said as he pulled the glass door open. “It never hurts to keep an eye out.” 

He entered the dim interior of the Starbucks while Steve hesitated and turned his gaze skywards; the warm sunlight streamed down between the towering buildings surrounding the coffee house and he smiled. 

It was all right. They’d won and everything-

His thought process was interrupted as the heavy plate glass door of the coffee house slammed into him and a woman’s husky voice snapped, “Holy shit! What are you doing, lurking in the doorway?!” 

The hair on Steve’s arms stood upright at the sound of her voice and his eyes slowly drifted up, taking in the black converse sneakers, the khaki pants and emerald green apron of the barista standing in front of him. Finally his eyes settled on her face and he gazed in wonder at the familiar angular features of her face and the ice-blue eyes glaring accusingly at him. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, shocked that she stood here in front of him and that she was indeed real. 

Her eyes widened as she took him in and the tray she held, which was full of cups of coffee, fell to the ground with an almighty crash. 

“Oh shit,” she murmured, her cheeks paling as she took him in. “Steve?!”

All he could do was stare at her; when Clint returned, holding two grande lattes and a scone his eyes darted between them and he chuckled as he thrust the latte into Steve’s slack hand. 

“See? I told you she was real,” he said as he headed out of the Starbucks. “Hey kid. He’s been dreaming about you,” he tossed over his shoulder.

Steve’s cheeks flushed and he started to say something but she laughed throatily, making his hair once more stand on end and goose-bumps ridge his skin.

“It’s okay, big guy. I’ve been dreaming about you, too,” she murmured. Then she held out a hand towards him and with a sideways little grin said, “I’m Regan Carlson, but all of my friends call me Reggie.” 

He clasped her hand gently and smiled, saying, “Hello, I’m Steve Rogers,” he paused as they stared at each other and the blurted out, “Would you want to get some coffee later?” 

Her smile widened and she squeezed his fingers. “Captain America,” she said with a laugh as he flushed, “I would love to get some coffee with you later.” 

Steve wasn’t sure, but as he knelt to help her pick up her fallen tray, it seemed like the sun shown a little brighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's the end. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this and it's not perfect in any way but I kept it short and surprisingly it ended the way I wanted it.
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	9. The Things That Get Me Through The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just some music I listened to when I needed to get in the mood of the story. 
> 
> Definitely look up these songs and artists!

Playlist

1\. Come Away to the Water-Maroon 5

2\. Bottom of the River-Delta Rae

3\. Broken Crown-Mumford & Sons

4\. Shake it Out-Florence + the Machine 

5\. Breath of Life-Florence + the Machine

6\. Skyfall-Adele

7\. Rolling in the Deep-Adele

8\. Live to Rise

9\. Tonight We Strike-John Wort Hannam

10\. Moses and the Lamb-the Waifs

11\. Shelter-Birdy

12\. Born to Die-Lana Del Rey 

13\. The King and all of his Men-Wolf Gang

14\. Future Starts Slow-the Kills

15\. Uprising-Muse

**Author's Note:**

> As per usual, don't own the Avengers, don't own New York City. 
> 
> So don't sue.


End file.
